Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
My bump is still small for twins, but apparently I’m right on schedule, and the babies are right on schedule with their growth. Both seem healthy.
Which means I’ve had to start ignoring the looks thrown my way from our community. I disappear for a while, then come back pregnant? I know there are many questions, and I won’t answer them. I don’t acknowledge the looks or the judgment, either.
I’m judging myself enough as it is.
I would take judgment over my father’s stony silence. Ever since I started showing, he’s taken to pretending I don’t even exist, even when we’re in the same house.
“You want my pickle?”
Marco holds up the pickle spear, and I realize I’ve been staring at it as I munch my way through a third slice of pizza.
“Yes, please.” I grab it before my brother thinks twice about it and alternate between eating that and the pizza.
Marco wrinkles his nose again, and I laugh.
He’s excited about the babies, about becoming an uncle. He’s already volunteered to babysit for me, though I know he has no idea what he’s signed up for.
Hell, I have no idea what’s coming for me. One baby is hard enough, but two? On my own? I don’t expect Marco to stay nights to help me feed and change them. He has his own life and his own place. And I’m the one who got myself into this situation, not him.
Even Katie is excited about having babies in the house. She’s already picked out names for them, though I keep telling her they won’t stick, and she has a Pinterest board with baby gear and nursery ideas she adds to every day.
It makes me happy that at least they’re excited, even if I’m still scared shitless about the whole thing.
Sometimes, I wonder if Jordan would have been excited, but then I feel guilty for wondering, and then I feel even guiltier because I’m the reason he’s not here.
“So the doctor said everything is good?”
I nod and swallow, my hunger finally abating. “Everything looks good. Babies are growing well and they’re where they’re supposed to be. Heartbeats are strong. Both are moving.”
I reach into my purse behind the desk and hand him the roll of ultrasound pictures. He takes them eagerly, gazing at the tiny hands, the little faces, the little noses.
“One of the babies is yawning.” I push myself as far as I can over the desk and point to the picture. “I know it’s hard to see, but if you look closely—”
A look of wonder crosses my brother’s face, a smile so soft it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. “I see it. Wow. They can yawn?”
I nod, my chest suddenly tight as a thought flashes across my mind.
I wish I could see Evgeny smile like that as he gazes at his children. Which is ridiculous because I doubt he even wants them. And I don’t know if I want him in their lives.
Except, my mind is still rejecting the idea that he had any direct part in my brother being killed. It’s an irreconcilable difference between the man I came to know and the man I know is the Kucherov Demon. I can’t seem to wrap my head around it. I know it’s possible, but it seems improbable.
Had I been so incredibly wrong about him? Judged him so incorrectly? Listened to my heart and the lies I was telling myself so blindly? Except my brain won’t accept that it’s true, and I hate myself for it. I’m supposed to hate Evgeny instead and banish all thoughts of him from my mind.
However, when my father’s coldness to me becomes too much, when the house feels stifling with reminders of Jordan and my mom all around, when all I want to do is curl into a ball and disappear, the only thing my body and mind seeks is the soft solitude of his estate and Evgeny’s arms.
“Hey, so...”
My brother’s hesitant start draws me away from my spiraling thoughts, where I spend many hours a day. I gesture with a half-finished pizza crust for him to continue, curious about the hesitation.
“I got a letter from the Bursar’s office yesterday. At first I thought it was a mistake, but I went in to confirm. My tuition is paid off.”
The pizza crust goes dry in my mouth, and I nearly choke on it. I have to down the rest of my water before my coughing fit stops.
“It’s what?” I manage.
“Paid off. All of it. My tuition for the rest of the year, plus the loans I took out.”
We stare at each other with the same dark eyes. Neither of us has to question how or why Marco is free of tuition and debt.
Evgeny.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I, um, got a letter from the property company. It says all of Dad’s back rent for this place is forgiven, and we have a six-month grace period before we have to start paying again.”